by Horace
woo wealthy widows with fruit and dainty morsels,
or catch childless dotards in a net to stock their fish-ponds.
80 Many fortunes are fattened by the quiet growth of interest.
But grant that men are engrossed in different aims and activities,
can any bear to enjoy the same thing for an hour?
If the millionaire exclaims ‘No bay in the world
outshines glorious Baiae,’ lake and sea are subjected
to the master’s hurried passion; but if his morbid fancy
gives the sacred signal, he says to his workmen ‘Tomorrow
you’ll take your tools to Teánum.’ If his hall has a marriage bed,
‘nothing,’ he says, ‘but nothing, can beat the bachelor’s life’.
If it hasn’t, he’s perfectly sure that only husbands are happy.
90 What knot will it take to hold this changeable Proteus?
And the poor man? Equally silly. He changes garret and bed,
baths and barber; he hires a boat and is just as sick
as the rich tycoon sailing along in his private yacht.
If I’ve had a haircut from a rather uneven barber, you laugh
when you meet me; if a grubby vest is visible under my smart
tunic, or say my toga is askew and sloppily folded,
you laugh. Yet what if my mind is all at odds with itself,
rejects what it asked for, returns to what it has just put down,
ebbs and flows, and disrupts my life’s entire pattern,
100 demolishing then rebuilding, changing square to round?
You accept my madness as normal. You don’t laugh at all,
nor do you think I need a doctor or a guardian assigned
by the court. And yet you are in charge of all my affairs;
you even become annoyed with the friend who looks to you
for support and protection, if his nails have not been properly trimmed.
In brief, the sensible man is second only to Jove.
He’s free, well thought of, handsome, the very king of kings;
above all, he’s sound – when he hasn’t a blasted cold!
EPISTLE 2
The first section derives some moral lessons from Homer; this leads into a homily on ethics.
While you, Lollius Maximus, are declaiming in Rome, at Praeneste
I have been reading again the tale of the Trojan war.
The poet shows what is fine and foul, what is advisable
and what is not, more clearly and better than Chrysippus and Crantor.
I’m happy to give you my reasons, if you are free to hear them.
The story, which tells how Greece on account of Paris’ love
became embroiled in a weary war with a foreign country,
is full of the feverish passions of foolish kings and peoples.
Antenor proposes at a stroke to remove the cause of the war.
10 And what is Paris’ answer? He declares that nothing will induce him
to reign in safety and live in happiness! Nestor is anxious
to settle the quarrel of Peleus’ son with the son of Atreus,
as the first is ravaged by love and both alike by anger.
For every act of royal folly the Achaeans are scourged.
Sedition, deceit, crime, lust and anger make up
a tale of sin on both sides of the Trojan wall.
Again, Homer has set before us a helpful example
of what goodness and wisdom can do in the shape of Ulysses,
the tamer of Troy, the man of vision, who studied the cities
20 and manners of many peoples, and who, as he struggled home
leading his men across the tracts of the sea, endured
many a horror, yet never sank in the waves of adversity.
You have often heard of the Sirens’ song and Circe’s cups;
if he had been foolish and greedy enough to drink, like his comrades,
he’d have fallen under the brutish degrading spell of a whore,
living the life of a filthy dog or a wallowing pig.
We are the mass, whose role is merely consuming produce –
Penelope’s drone-like suitors, or the youths at Alcinous’ court,
who spent excessive time in looking after their bodies;
30 they thought it a fine thing to slumber half the day,
and then to woo reluctant sleep with the sound of the lute.
Thugs get up in the middle of the night to cut a throat.
Won’t you wake up for the sake of your own salvation? But listen –
if you won’t run when healthy, you will when you suffer from dropsy.
Send for a book and a lamp before daylight, and focus
your mind on noble aims and pursuits, or else when you wake
you’ll be racked by desire or envy. Why so quick to remove
a speck of dirt from your eye? And yet, if anything eats at
your soul, you say: ‘Time enough to attend to it next year’.
40 Well begun is half done. Dare to be wise.
Start now. The man who postpones the hour of reform
is the yokel who waits for the river to pass; but it continues
and will continue gliding and rolling for ever and ever.
I know, you need money and a wealthy wife who will bear you
children; the wild scrub is being subdued by the plough.
But when one’s blest with enough, one shouldn’t long for more.
Possessing a house or farm or a pile of bronze and gold
has never been known to expel a fever from an invalid’s body
or a worry from his mind. Unless the owner has sound health
50 he cannot hope to enjoy the goods he has brought together.
A man with fear or desire has as much pleasure from his house
and possessions as sore eyes from a picture, gouty feet
from muffs, or ears from a lyre when aching with lumps of dirt.
When a jar is unclean, whatever you fill it with soon goes sour.
Despise pleasure: when the price is pain, pleasure is harmful.
The greedy are never content; fix an end to your longings.
Envious people waste away when their neighbours thrive.
Envy is just as painful as any torture invented
by the tyrants of Sicily. The man who fails to control his rage
60 is sure to regret what his wounded feelings caused him to do
when he took hasty and violent revenge to ease his resentment.
Rage is a burst of madness. Restrain your temper: unless it
obeys it will rule you. Keep it in check with bridle and chain.
A colt with his tender neck is pliable; hence the trainer
shapes him to go where the rider wants. The hound begins
to hunt in the woods when once it has barked at a stag’s hide
in the yard. So now, when you’re still a boy and your heart’s untainted,
attach yourself to your betters and absorb their words of wisdom.
A jar retains for years the smell with which it was tinged
70 when new. But mind, don’t dawdle or press keenly ahead.
I never wait for the slow-coach or try to catch the leaders!
EPISTLE 3
Horace inquires about the literary activities of some young friends who are staff officers in the army of Tiberius.
Julius Florus, I’m longing to hear what part of the world
Augustus’ stepson, Claudius, has reached with his expedition.
Where are you stationed? In Thrace, where snowy fetters confine
the Hebrus, or by the straits which run between the towers
on either side, or in Asia with its fertile plains and hills?
Also, what literary work is his staff engaged in, I wonder.
Who’s shouldering the task of recording Augustus’ exploits,
spreading the tale of war an
d peace to distant ages?
What of Titius, who will soon become the talk of Rome?
10 He has had the spirit to despise the tanks and open channels,
and has not blenched at drinking from Pindar, the fountain-head.
How is he? Does he ever think of me? Do the Muses smile
on his efforts to fit the rhythms of The bes to the Latin lyre,
or does he rave and boom at large in the tragic manner?
What is Celsus up to? He needs constant reminding
to look for resources within himself, and to keep his hands off
the writings received by Apollo within the Palatine temple;
or else, when the flock of birds return to claim their plumage,
the poor little crow will be stripped of all the colours he stole,
20 and exposed to laughter. And what exciting plans have you got?
What beds of thyme are you buzzing about? Not that your talent
is in any way small; nor is it coarse or unpleasantly shaggy.
Whether you sharpen your tongue for the courts, or prepare to give
an opinion on civil law, or build your lovely songs,
you will win first prize – the victor’s ivy. But if you were able
to get rid of your worries – those cold showers that damp you down –
you would soar above to the place where heavenly wisdom leads.
That is the task, that’s the pursuit we should all engage in
(great or small), if we prize our country’s esteem and our own.
30 When you write back, you must also tell me whether you care
for Munatius as much as you should; or does the gash in your friendship
reopen and fail to knit, because it’s been badly stitched?
You’re a wild pair, with tossing heads! But whatever’s inciting you
(hot blood or lack of experience), and wherever you are,
it’s wrong that such fellows should break the ties of brotherly feeling.
A heifer is being fattened to celebrate your return.
EPISTLE 4
A greeting and exhortation to the poet Albius.
Albius, you were a fair judge of my ‘conversations’.
What are you doing, I wonder, in your native haunts at Pedum?
Writing something to outshine Cassius of Parma’s pieces,
or taking a quiet stroll through the fresh woodland air,
pondering on all that befits a man who is wise and good?
You always were a soul as well as a body. The gods
have given you good looks, wealth and the sense to enjoy it.
If a man can judge what’s right, express what he feels, and also
claim a generous share of charm, prestige and health,
10 with a decent style of living and a wallet that’s never empty,
what further gift could a nurse desire for her darling baby?
In a world torn by hope and worry, dread and anger,
imagine every day that dawns is the last you’ll see;
the hour you never hoped for will prove a happy surprise.
Come and see me when you want a laugh. I’m fat and sleek,
in prime condition, a porker from Epicurus’ herd.
EPISTLE 5
A cheerful invitation to dinner.
If you can bear to recline on one of Archias’ couches,
and can face smallish helpings of vegetarian food,
I shall look forward, Torquatus, to seeing you here at sunset.
The wine you will drink was bottled in Taurus’ second consulate
between Minturnae in the marsh and Petrinum near Sinuessa.
If you’ve something better, have it brought, or obey orders.
The hearth is already polished, and you’ll find the furniture tidy.
Forget for a while your chancy prospects and the race for profits
and the Moschus case. Tomorrow is Caesar’s birthday, and so
10 we have an excuse for sleeping in. No retribution
if we stretch our pleasant talk into the summer night.
What’s the point of money if you haven’t the chance to enjoy it?
Someone who scrimps and saves more than he needs, in concern
for his heir, is next door to an idiot; I’ll begin
drinking and scattering flowers. Who cares if I’m called irresponsible?
Think of the wonders uncorked by wine! It opens secrets,
gives heart to our hopes, pushes the cowardly into battle,
lifts the load from anxious minds, and evokes talents.
Thanks to the bottle’s prompting no one is lost for words,
20 no one who’s cramped by poverty fails to find release.
I’m under orders, willing and able, to ensure the following:
there’ll be no dirty napkins to make you grimace in disgust,
nor any grubby covers; no tankard or plate
that you can’t see your face in; no one to noise abroad what is said
to friends in confidence. Getting the right blend of guests
is so important. I shall have Septicius and Butra along
to meet you, and Sabinus if he’s not prevented by a previous engagement
and prettier company. There’s also room for several shadows.
(But at over crowded parties one must beware of the goat.)
30 Let me know how many you’d like; then drop what you’re doing
and trick the client in the hall by slipping out the back.
EPISTLE 6
Various approaches to the good life, most of them treated with good-humoured irony.
‘Never be dazzled’ is about the one and only thing,
my dear Numicius, that can make and keep a person happy.
The sun up there, and the stars, and the seasons passing in steady
procession – some can watch them without the least apprehension.
So what do you think of the earth’s gifts and those of the sea
that provides such wealth for the distant Arabs and Indians? Also,
what of the shows? And the gifts and cheers of the Roman crowd?
How should they be regarded? With what looks and emotions?
As for their opposites, one who fears them is dazzled in rather
10 the same way as the eager man; the trouble is caused
by excitement: both are unsettled by the sight of the unforeseen.
Whether a man feels joy or pain, fear or desire –
what matter, if after seeing something better or worse
than expected he stands and stares, benumbed in mind and body?
The sensible man would be called a fool, the moral immoral,
if he followed Goodness herself beyond the proper limit!
Go on then, gaze at antique silver and bronzes and marbles
and works of art; be dazzled by gems and Tyrian colours;
revel in the fact that a thousand eyes are watching you speak.
20 Early to the Forum, home late – never let up,
or Mute may reap a richer crop from the fields he acquired
with his wife, and (horrid thought, for his people are lower class)
he may prove more dazzling to you than vice versa.
Whatever is under ground time will bring to the sunshine;
it will bury and hide what’s now in the limelight. After you’ve been
a familiar sight in Agrippa’s Porch and the Appian Way,
you must still go down the road travelled by Numa and Ancus.
If your lungs or kidneys are attacked by an acute disease, you look
for a cure. You also desire moral health. (Who doesn’t?)
30 Well if that’s produced by goodness alone, forget your fun
and set to work.
Do you think goodness is just a name,
and a grove just timber? Then see that you make harbour first.
(You mustn’t lose the trade from Cíbyra or from Bithynia.)
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Clear a thousand talents, and as many again; to these
add a third thousand, and then square the pile with a fourth.
As we all know, a wife and dowry, credit and friends,
birth and looks are conferred by her royal highness Money;
and the well-heeled man is blessed with charm and sex appeal.
Cappadocia’s king has lots of slaves, but he’s short of cash.
40 Don’t you be like him. Lucullus, they say, was asked
whether he could lend a hundred cloaks for a stage production.
‘A hundred?’ he said. ‘I doubt it, but I’ll have a look and send you
what’s there.’ A letter followed: ‘I find I have five thousand
available; take your pick – or the whole lot if you like.’
A house is sadly inadequate unless there’s a large surplus
which the owner can’t keep track of and thieves grow fat on. Well then,
if wealth is the only thing that can make and keep you happy,
every day be the first at work, and the last to leave.
But if success is attained by display and popular favour
50 let’s buy a slave to remind us of names, to dig us in the ribs
and make us offer a handshake across the stepping stones.
‘He’s important in the Fabian tribe; he in the Veline;
he can confer the rods at will or remove the chair
of ivory without compunction.’ Add ‘Brother’ or ‘Father’
according to age, genially admitting them all to your family.
If good food is the secret of the good life – it’s daylight;
let’s obey the call of our gullet, going in quest
of fish and game, in Gargilius’ style. He would send
his servants, with nets and spears, through the crowded Forum; later
60 one of his mules would carry home, as the people watched,
a boar he had bought. Distended with half-digested food
let’s go to the baths, and ignore all questions of decency, acting
like Caere’s third-rate townsmen, or Ulysses the Ithacan’s crew –
a rotten lot, who preferred forbidden delights to their homeland.
If, as Mimnermus holds, without sexual pleasure
no joy exists, devote your life to sexual pleasure.
Good-bye and good luck. If you know anything better, be sure to
pass it on; if not, you can share the above with me.